An Accident of Fate
by Nightarcher210
Summary: I've seen a lot of ClarkLois fics lately. As great as that is, I don't think that poor Richard has had much oppotunity for character development. So I decided to do something about it and this is what came out. Both Clark and Richard get equal screen time
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi people! The idea for this story came to me yesterday, and it was so intriguing that I couldn't resist. I am still posting my Batman fic, (just so my five readers know), but you all know how quickly two little plot bunnies can become ten. This can be taken either as a one-shot or the beginning of a bigger story arc. Depending on the number of reviews I get, I'll either continue or leave it as is (say five- I've never gotten five reviews for a single chapter before).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that's related to Superman, except for the ticket stub from the movie, and his brief appearance in Hush- which is an awesome comic by the way. Jeph Loeb is a god.

**An Accident of Fate**

Richard glanced over at his sleeping wife. The lines of worry that creased her face during the day had been smoothed over, and she breathed steadily. He couldn't sleep, and was happy to watch her. Her forehead crinkled, so he reached for her, and she mumbled softly, "Su… no, no." His throat caught. He knew what she had begun to say. He pulled his hand back and quietly crept out of the room. As he walked down the hall, he could see her face on the plane. The worry, the fear. And she'd been so tender when she'd pulled the kryptonite out of Superman's side. And now, when she spoke of him, her eyes would go misty and she'd get a faraway look on her face. His heart ached fiercely, but how could he compete with the Man of Steel? He was only Richard White, licensed pilot, journalist for the Daily Planet, husband of Lois Lane. He could never be Superman. As hard as he tried, he was not his wife's first love. And it hurt.

He paused by his son's room. Jason was sleeping as easily as his mother had been. But unlike his mother, no unwelcome utterances came out of his mouth. Richard stood there for a long time. When he finally had the urge to move, he realized that he did not want to return to bed. Sighing, he walked downstairs and slipped out the sliding glass door quietly. A cold breeze ruffled his hair and picked at his shirt as he closed the door. The grass was wet with dew, and by the time he'd made it down to the dock, the hems of his pants were soaked and cold. Goosebumps prickled up his arms, but he ignored them. Winter was coming, and soon there would be snow on the ground. He breathed in deeply, letting the cold air coat his throat, and looked out at Metropolis. Even at this hour, the city was lit up like day. Metropolis was unusual. It was bright, clean, and colorful. He smiled sadly- the city was much like its savior in that respect. It brought him back to his time in Gotham. He'd been one of the reporters who'd covered the emergence of Batman. That city was like its hero as well- shadowy and frightening. A Dark Knight for a dark city. A White Knight (or Blue-suited Boy scout) for a light one.

He shifted his gaze to the night sky. The stars twinkled feebly in competition with the lights of the city, and the waning crescent of the moon was near invisible. A bright light flashed across the sky, and he wondered what would happen if he made a wish. Half-remembered images of his childhood, asking the night sky for a dream girl, came to mind. He'd gotten the dream girl, had been with her for five years, and realized after all that time that she still loved another man. Hell, wishes had worked before, why shouldn't they work now? So he closed his eyes and whispered to the wind, "I wish I were Superman."

The wind picked up and began to blow fiercely. He opened his eyes as leaves danced across the ground, and looked down at his hands. He still felt the same. He touched his face, feeling the stubble growing there. No, he was still Richard White. He was still standing on the dock behind his house, and he was still exhausted from the last few weeks. He turned and walked back inside, telling himself that it had just been a joke, that he hadn't really meant that he wanted to be Superman. But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. He wanted, desperately, to be the man that his wife loved. Even if it meant being another man.

The sun was rising over Mt. Fuji, tinting the clouds a pale salmon pink. The sky behind the mountain was shifting from deep blue to a near white. Superman hung suspended above the mountain, staring at the scene in silence. Residual pain from the wound in his side had kept him from sleeping lately, and a good sunrise was just what he needed. A small smile touched his lips as he admired its beauty. After the sky had lightened considerably, he spiraled upwards and out over the Pacific. The jumble of a hundred languages died as he hit the stratosphere. He could see the Polynesian islands below, then they sank behind the horizon as he flew back into the western hemisphere. Then he passed into the night. Cities lit with an inner brilliance disappeared behind him. He kept his ears open for anyone that might need his assistance, and of course ended up stopping over Gotham.

A scream echoed out of an alleyway, and he dove, knowing full well that there was another who would hear the cry. He could hear the engine behind him as he landed on a roof, watched with interest as Batman took out five men attacking a young woman and a little girl. Gotham was protected and watched, but it was still crime-ridden. The Bat had his hands full, but he insisted on independence from his counterpart. Superman shot into the sky again only after the men were all sprawled apart in the alley. As Batman led the girls through the alley to safety, he glanced up in time see a blue and red figure disappear towards Metropolis. Then the little girl whispered "Thank you," and took her sister's hand, and he vanished into the shadows.

As Superman hovered above his city, not a breath of air stirred his hair, no wind ruffled his cape. He scanned the buildings and the side streets of downtown, and then turned to the suburbs. He stopped when he saw a movement outside of Lois's house. Heart in his throat, he sped towards the house. He relaxed, however, when he saw that it was just Richard, looking out at Metropolis. He was cold, if the goosebumps on his arms were any indication, but he wasn't moving. As Richard White watched Metropolis, Superman watched him. It seemed that both of the men in Lois Lane's life were restless tonight.

When Richard turned his gaze to the sky, Superman sped out of sight. Instead of looking through the house at Richard, Superman looked up as well. He could see the stars much better, and noticed the shooting star seconds before Richard did. His mind went back to the years on the Kent farm. He remembered his mother telling him about the magic of shooting stars, remembered wishing that he could be normal, wishing Lana would pay attention to him, wishing to know his parents. Those things had all come true, in a fashion. But then he'd lost them all again. Even his father crystal had been taken, by a vengeful genius, and used against him. But he looked into the house, and watched the sleeping form of Lois. She seemed fitful, probably because her husband wasn't with her. Now that he was away from the sun, he could feel the steady pain of the kryptonite shard throbbing in his back. The object itself was gone, but he'd be feeling it for a long time.

So as the star passed above him, he whispered to himself, "I wish I were Richard White." And he didn't hear Richard White utter near identical words a few hundred feet away. The wind finally found the strength to stir his hair, but he stood perfectly still. He would have been able to stand still in the middle of a category five hurricane. With one last look at Lois and Jason, he rose into the air. That very action told him that he was, and would always be, Superman. But he wanted her to be happy. Even if it was with another man.

**Well**, what do you think? Should I continue? Or do you want me to leave it as is? Press the pretty blue button!


	2. Awakening

**A/N: **All right, bear with me for a moment. This story originally came to me as a body-swap thing, but a review from DragonFlame27 made me realize that it was a mite predictable and more than a little corny. So I have a request. I am posting the original chapter 2, and if you think it works, let me know. If you don't like the idea, let me know, and I will post the updated chapter 2. I'll have to rework the story a bit, but it will follow mostly the same lines I intended it too. Thanks, DragonFlame27 (and I'm sorry to disappoint). Oh, and I also wanted to say how much I love the Superman fans. I got nine reviews on one chapter! I've died and gone to heaven!

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own 'im. My brother's name is Brandon, though. Huh. Go figure.

Chapter 2: Awakening

Richard was flying. Really, truly flying. He felt strong and happy and good, and the water below him was clear and smooth as glass. His mind flickered briefly back to what his college psych professor had said about flying dreams (it had to do with Freud and his fixation with… well, you know). But the sheer joy of the dream pulled him away from that. For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

Then the beeping started. He groaned and rolled over in bed, waiting for Lois to shut off the alarm as she always did, but it kept beeping steadily, the shrill noise drilling into his head. He reached out a hand and groped for the clock. When he found it, he hit it with what was obviously more force than necessary. Although he barely felt it, he could hear the wood splinter as his hand passed _through_ the nightstand. And that's when he woke up completely.

Clark turned on his side, hugging the comforter more tightly around himself. He felt inordinately cold, but that made the blanket feel all the nicer. He smiled softly in his half-asleep state. It felt good to sleep. Normal, too. He was almost annoyed when the alarm sounded. But the alarm meant that he would go into work, and going into work meant he would see Lois. He reached out next to him, but his hand couldn't find the source of the beeping. Then he noticed something odd. He couldn't pinpoint the sound, as usual, with his ears. With the blanket up around his head, it was muffled.

The beeping ceased, and he slowly lowered the comforter. There was something wrong, but he was too groggy to focus. His body felt strange, heavy and lumbering as he moved. His arm was heavier than he could ever remember it being. Then an all-too-familiar voice spoke next to him, "Are you gonna get up, sleepy-head?"' Lois teased. And that's when he woke up completely.

Richard stared at himself in the mirror. A pair of impossibly blue eyes stared back. Inhumanly blue. He touched the face that wasn't his, probing, examining. He glanced down. He didn't look like someone who could lift a growing continent and toss it into space, but the body he was wearing had done just that. And it scared him. He scanned the room silently, trying to find the ever-recognizable suit, perhaps draped nonchalantly over a chair, or even hanging in the open closet.

Then his eyes lit on a vaguely familiar pair of glasses on the nightstand. He couldn't see the suit anywhere, but he walked over to the glasses, curious. He put them in front of his eyes, and his vision immediately blurred. His mind went back to what Lois had said about Superman's powers. Wasn't there something about being able to see through things? So he looked past the glasses… and straight through the wall. A blush rose on his cheeks when he realized the girl next door probably didn't want anyone watching her shower. He tried again, only this time, he concentrated harder. He could see normally. Still holding the glasses, he walked in front of the mirror again. He looked at himself without them, and saw Superman. But when he put the glasses on…

_This isn't happening_, he thought. Clark Kent's modest face had replaced that of the Man of Steel. He lowered the glasses again, just to sanity check himself, then started to laugh. Sanity check? He was in Superman's body! God knew where the man himself had gone. Then a thought struck him. If he was in Superman's (or Clark Kent's) body, then maybe Clark Kent was in his body. Richard ran a hand through his (now much darker) hair. He had just made several startling revelations:

1. He was now officially inhabiting the body of the most recognizable face on the planet

2. That body normally belonged to a bumbling reporter from the Daily Planet

3. Said bumbling reporter apparently moonlighted as a superhero

4. And last, but most certainly not least; said bumbling reporter who apparently moonlighted as a superhero would very shortly be waking up with Richard's wife.

It was this last that most disturbed him.

Clark was hyperventilating in the bathroom as Lois stood outside, asking what was wrong. He looked at his (no, not his, Richard's) face in the mirror, and that face looked very surprised indeed. How had it happened? The star… there was no way that a wish on a star could have come true, no matter how much Jiminy Cricket sang to the contrary. It just wasn't possible! He put a hand to his face, felt the stubble there, and knew that it wasn't a dream. The he heard the phone ring, and listened as Lois walked over to pick it up. She spoke in a hushed voice, and Clark felt himself longing for his old ears. A few seconds later, however, he realized that it didn't matter that he couldn't hear. Lois knocked on the door again, and she sounded confused, "Um. Richard?" she asked, "It's Clark. He wants to talk to you. Says it's important."

Clark froze. He was calling himself? How weird was that? With a groan, he realized that his own body would not just be lying there without a soul. And he had a pretty good idea whose soul it was. He steadied himself and, taking a deep breath, opened the door. He and Richard needed to talk. Desperately.

**The blue button calls! **Answer, and you shall get the kind of story you want!


	3. Monday

**A/N: **Well, apparently I do Superman a lot better than Batman… oh god, that _so_ did not sound right… I _write_ Superman a lot better than Batman (it is a nice break to get away from the dark and brooding thing), seeing that I got nearly twice as many review for two chapters about Supes than I did for five about Bats. Or, as has been said before, Big Blue's fans are a lot more receptive than the Detective's. Ah well, c'est la vie!

And as I forgot to do it last chapter, I wanted to thank all of my anonymous reviewers- LostSchizophrenic, Shelby, tiberius, and realb- you guys rock. All right, I'll stop yammering now.

**Disclaimer: **Alas, good friends, it is not yet mine! But I ain't letting parting be any kind of sorrow (sweet or otherwise) until I've had my fun. When I'm done, I'll put the boys back just like they were before… well, they may be a little emotionally scarred…

**Mondays**

In general, Richard didn't mind Mondays nearly as much as most people did. This one, however, was shaping up to be one hell of a day. He was still incredibly freaked out, but he had calmed down somewhat after talking to Clark (although that in itself had been a unique experience). He had listened Clark's instructions and found both of suits he'd need in the closet. One had been hanging up in all its tweed glory, amongst others of the same caliber. But behind that, in a hidden compartment that he challenged even his wife to find, hung the suit. The Suit, with a capital S. Richard pinched himself, several times, and wondered how loud he would have screamed if he could actually feel it. So he was still unsure as to whether he was dreaming our not, until he registered the slight throb in his back. He reached around, gingerly prodding the area. Here, finally, was a scar. And he himself had been there when it was made.

The pain had been so unnoticeable amongst the rest of it (he was still recovering from the conversation that he'd heard in Gotham a few minutes ago, and he would have to apologize to Clark about the splinters that had once been his nightstand), but it had been there, like a sore muscle- constant and small. He shook his head and looked in the mirror again. He doubted he'd ever get used to the appearance, but then again, he also hoped that he wouldn't have to get used to the appearance. He wanted his face back. He wanted to be shorter again (only by an inch, mind you). And he wanted to have woken up next to his wife.

The Suit was slightly uncomfortable to wear underneath the tweed, but he realized that Clark had done it every day for years. The red cape was folded into a tiny square at the base of his neck. He'd flattened it so thoroughly that it was like it wasn't even there. It made him wonder what other things the nice guy from Smallville had had to put up with. He'd been Lois's partner for years before Richard had even met her. All that time, she'd been in love with Superman, and he'd been right next to her, meekly following up on reports and wondering if she'd ever notice. Great reporter that she was, she never had. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making sure that he was wearing his glasses (Clark had been adamant about that bit) before walking out the door.

Lois was pretty sure she'd never seen Richard this frantic before. And it was… well, honestly, it was kind of funny. But whatever Clark said had calmed him down. He was putting on his shoes, and she had to tell him to switch feet before her tried to force his left foot into the right shoe. She decided to go take a shower while he was getting ready. When she came out a few minutes later wrapped in a towel, he blushed. _Okay_, she thought, _this is starting to get a little strange_. He actually pulled away slightly when she tried to kiss him on the cheek.

"Richard!" she slapped his arm angrily, "What's wrong with you?"

He looked ashamed, confused, and downright sorry. It reminded her, strangely, of Clark when he was apologizing for something he didn't do. She smiled and kissed him on the head. This time he didn't pull away, "Today's your day to take Jason into school," she said as she walked back to the bathroom, "Your uncle'll have my head if I don't get in by eight," he didn't answer, but she could see him nod in the mirror, "Good. He's eating breakfast now," she stuck her head out the doorframe once more, "I love you."

He smiled and walked downstairs. Lois crossed her arm indignantly. Why hadn't he kissed her goodbye? He _always_ kissed her goodbye. She sighed and walked back into the bathroom. This was turning out to be one hell of a day.

Jason watched his daddy come down the stairs, carefully tracking his every move. When he reached the kitchen, Jason launched himself out from behind the cabinet, ready to be scooped up in a hug. Instead, his daddy just looked confused.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" he asked softly, "Don't you love me?"

Clark's breath hitched in his chest. His son, _his son_, was calling him Daddy. He didn't know who he was actually speaking to, of course, but it was possibly the most beautiful moment of Clark's life. He smiled widely, "Of course I love you, Jason," he said, opening his arms, "C'mere."

Jason smiled and accepted the hug, then tugged his hand, "We're making planets today," he said.

"Really! Well, you don't want to be late for that, do you?" Jason shook his head, brown hair swinging back and forth, "Better go finish getting ready, then."

Ten minutes later, Clark, who'd never needed to drive, was wondering desperately what to do. It seemed simple enough when he saw it in movies and watched others do it- he could even tell you exactly what chemical reactions were going on in the engine, but he'd never actually bothered to learn. His salvation came in the form of himself. Jason leaned over and whispered, "What's Mr. Clark doing here?"

Clark turned his head to his son, "I told him to come over. He's going to drive into work with us today."

Jason nodded with all the solemnity of a five-year-old, then a grin split his face, "Cool! I like Mr. Clark. It was sad when he was in the hospital, but mommy kissed him and made it better!"

Clark looked up. His own face stared into the car, pain written over the features. He knew that Richard had heard that. He got out, telling Jason to stay put. His eyes searched Richard's. He'd never realized just how unnerving his own stare was until he was looking at it from the other side, "Hi, Richard," he said softly.

"You better call me Clark," was the reply, "So that people don't get confused."

Clark nodded wonderingly. There was no malice in his voice, only acceptance, "Sounds good. Guess I'm Richard, then," the other nodded, "So, uh… Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind, uh, well, see, I never really learned…" he trailed off, gesturing hopelessly at the car.

Blue eyes widened, and an amused grin split Richard/Clark's face, "Sure. Get in," he turned, "You got the keys?"

**Yes, I know** that it's going to start to get confusing from here on out, so I've devised a key: Clark and Richard will refer to themselves and each other as their true selves in their thoughts, and as the body that they're wearing in speech. Everyone else will be pretty much clueless for a while, so they will all just assume that the guy wearing Richard's face is actually Richard, and the guy wearing Clark's face is actually… well, you get the picture. If that doesn't make sense, I'll try to make it more coherent when I post next. Oh, and about the driving thing- I wasn't really sure whether our boy ever actually learned how to drive. I just figured it would be too slow for him (his usual pace being faster than your average racecar.)


	4. The First Jump

**A/N: **I'm so sorry for the long delay! There's been a lot of school stuff going on lately, but suffice to say, I've been pretty bogged down. And you have all been so nice to me- thirty-two reviews for three chapters! Speaking of which, I should address your questions. Nearly everyone said he learned to drive in at least two different shows. But, most of you thought it was funny, so I guess that's all that counts. And about the marriage thing. I completely forgot that they were only engaged. It was a big goof on my part, I should have reread the novelization before I wrote anything, and I apologize. But, seeing as the damage has been done, I think it can't hurt to just pretend that I didn't make that glaring error and meant for them to have been married. And, in answer to L.E. Jones's question, he felt heavier in Richard's body because he's used to being super-strong. Without that strength, he feels heavy in a normal body.

There, I think I've answered everyone's comments. So, on with the show!

Oh, right, first the **Disclaimer: **I don't own Superman, Richard, or Neo. Yes, I said Neo. If you want to know why, read!

**P.S. **In the first scene, they are referred to by their consciousnesses, not their bodies, because it is just the two of them.

**The First Jump**

"I _really _don't think this is a good idea, Clark," Richard half-shouted over the wind. He stared down at the ground, several dozen stories below and gulped. He wasn't the kind to be afraid of heights (being a pilot wasn't for the faint-hearted) but looking a four hundred foot drop straight in the eye wasn't something that could be taken lightly.

"Sure it is!" Clark shouted back, grinning widely.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Clark hesitated, then nodded, "Why aren't you?" he asked, "It's not like the fall would kill you."

"But it would kill you," Richard said flatly. Every time he flew, just behind the pure joy and exhilaration, there was a little voice in the back of his head that quietly told him just how wrong it was to be in the air. He wasn't sure if Clark had that voice, but it didn't seem like it.

"Don't worry," Clark held up a hand, "I won't go jumping off any buildings while you're not looking."

Richard didn't answer. Instead, he turned back to the edge of the building and pulled slightly at the collar. He winced as a half his shirt came away, revealing the blue underneath. He was still trying to get used to the strength that was compacted in Clark's body (he'd nearly put his foot through the floor when driving Jason to school.)

"You need to practice flying," Clark said. He looked worried as he glanced out at the city, "If someone's in trouble…" he trailed off and looked worriedly at Richard, "You have to be able to help them."

Richard sighed and stepped behind a power box on the roof. When he emerged, he was… still Clark Kent.

Clark looked annoyed, "Don't forget to take the glasses off.'

"Oh! Sorry," Richard folded the black frames carefully and Clark plucked them out of his hand.

Clark scratched his neck and looked at Richard, "Well, I guess it's time for lesson one… actually lesson two, since you seem to have the running down pretty well."

"What's lesson two?" Richard asked, stepping back apprehensively.

"Jumping."

"Jumping?"

"Jumping," Clark pointed to the building across from them, "You just have to jump, from this building to there and back."

Several hundred thousand years of human evolution begged to differ, "Uh, no."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes," before Richard could counter, Clark continued, "Think of it like that scene in The Matrix," he paused, brow furrowing, "Except you'll make it on the first jump."

"So now I'm Neo?"

"He does do that Superman thing in the third one."

Richard groaned as Clark smiled goofily, "Fine," he said. And several hundred thousand years of human evolution went screaming down the drain.

Lois sat at her desk, chewing her pen thoughtfully. She needed someone to bounce ideas off of, but Richard was still dropping Jason off and Clark… well, she really had no idea where he was. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Since her partner was effectively MIA, she had a perfectly legitimate excuse for not working, and t seemed to be a perfect time to start thinking about everything. Her mind had been in a blender since the moment she'd first seen Superman outside the window of the airplane.

What she couldn't get over was how sweet and understanding he'd been. Why did he have to be so good? Why couldn't he hold a grudge against Richard like most normal men would? And Richard was worse. Now that Superman was back, he had, understandably, become a little wary of his wife's past dalliances with the Blue Boy Scout. But he remained civil and kind and… oh god in heaven, how would she tell him that Jason wasn't his son? She herself didn't even know how that had happened.

"Uh, Ms. Lane? Are you all right?" she looked up to see Jimmy standing by her desk, his camera shoving aside his tie and his hair askew.

"I-I'm fine," she said, then looked in the monitor. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Had she been crying?

"You sure?'

She straightened, "Of course I'm sure," she smiled, just to prove her point.

"Okay," he said slowly, then remembered something and disappeared into the maelstrom that was the bullpen. Lois slumped down again and buried her face in her hand. How had she given birth to Superman's child? She had no memory of it at all!

A shout from Perry's office pulled her mind away from the thought. She filed it away for later. The next time she saw Superman, she'd have to ask him about that.

Richard stood on the edge of the rooftop, eyes squeezed tightly shut. The voice in the back of his head was muttering to itself in its little corner, having given up screaming bloody murder. Clark stood behind him, arms folded across his chest and a small scowl on his face.

"Just jump, Richard," he said, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

Richard took a deep breath, tensed his legs, and heard the little voice whisper into his ear "No one ever makes the first jump." He swallowed and felt his legs begin to shake, but before he could do anything, Clark shoved him from behind. This was not good. The ground was coming towards him at a speed that was entirely too straightforward, and he threw his arms up, willing himself to stop in midair. He knew that it could never work, that he'd still fall to his… he'd stopped. He opened his eyes and looked down. He hovered about halfway up the side of the building and gazed into the surprised eyes of the people below him. He smiled at them, and urged his body to move up. It did, and he felt the wind begin to rush past him in the opposite direction from before. Slowly, he came to eye-level with Clark, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Well?"

Richard looked down at himself, still hovering away from the building, "That was… amazing," he breathed, and tried going faster. It worked, and he let out a whoop of joy. Two hundred feet higher, he heard Clark speak again.

"Told you so."

**So, **what did you think? Did I explain everything well enough? I hope ya'll liked it, and I'll try to get the next one out sooner.


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